


dream a little dream (of me)

by PitchonthePitch



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Break Up, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Oblivious Simon Snow, POV Multiple, Pining, Plans For The Future, Simon struggles not to go off, Watford (Simon Snow), Watford Eighth Year, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17004120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitchonthePitch/pseuds/PitchonthePitch
Summary: The Humdrum finds Simon again. This time, Penny, Agatha, and Baz get taken along with him. The Humdrum casts a spell that puts all four of them to sleep, dreaming of the things they want most.Trigger warnings can be found in my author notes at the end of the chapter!





	1. Chapter 1

AGATHA

 

I was sure Simon would break up with me, after catching me with Baz in the Wavering Wood. I wouldn’t have blamed him. I remember actually being sort of relieved. Being the Chosen One’s girlfriend sometimes feels like more of a job than a relationship. I go with him to dances and I hold his hand in the dining hall and I wait for him to come back from all his heroic adventures.

  
Is that what a relationship is supposed to be? All obligations and routine?

  
I could still do all that, even if we weren’t together.

  
And then there’s Baz. Baz, who’s all flirting and eye rolls and mixed signals. Baz, who doesn’t seem to give a damn what anyone expects from him. If being with Simon feels like a job, what would being with Baz feel like?

  
Simon didn’t want to break up, though. I expected him to devolve into his angry rambling, to stutter and spit out half-sentences, the way he does whenever he catches Baz looking my way.

  
But there was none of that when we talked. We were back in the Wavering Wood, just the two of us this time. His jaw was set and his eyes were determined, the same as when he faces off against a dragon or talks about how he’ll one day defeat the Humdrum. He said, “I want to make this work.”

  
I stared at him. “You do?”

  
“Of course.” He looked back at me, and the determined look in his eyes turned to a kind of desperation. “You’re my future.”

  
Of all the things he could have said. Girlfriend. True love. Soulmate. And he picked, “future.”

  
It wasn’t very romantic.

  
But it was something. It was vital. You can live without a soulmate, but everyone needs a future. He needed me. It felt good to be needed.

Besides, Baz hadn’t talked to me at all since that night. He still looks at me, whenever I’m with Simon. I was walking alone once when I passed him on the lawn. But he kept walking, even when I called his name after him. I’m starting to think he cares more about getting a rise out of Simon than he does about me.

  
So I said, “Okay.”

  
“Okay?”

  
“Yeah. I want to make this work too, Simon.”

  
I’m waiting for Simon and Penny on the lawn when Baz finally talks to me again. “Wellbelove.” He sits next to me on the lawn.

  
I stand up. “Basil.”

  
He blinks up at me. He smiles, like he hasn’t been avoiding me for weeks. “How are you?”

  
“I’m fine.” My arms are crossed, and I’m pouting, like I’m mad at him. I am, sort of. But I’m also sort of excited.

  
Even though he’s been ignoring me for weeks now, I’ve still thought about him. I look back at him whenever I catch him staring at me. I still like him. I like the attention, at least. (Is there a difference?)

  
I see Simon and Penny walking toward us out of the corner of my eye. “You should go. My boyfriend’s coming to meet me.”

  
He raises a brow. “Who’s that?”

  
“You know it’s Simon.”

  
“Yeah.” Basil always has a poised look about him. (I bet he spends time practicing his faces in the mirror.) He raises a perfect brow when he’s unimpressed; he tilts his head and rolls his eyes just so when he’s disdainful; even his scowl looks practiced. But now, his face falls. He looks genuinely disappointed. “You two have worked things out, then?”

  
“Yeah,” I say, “we have.”

  
The poised mask falls back on his face. He nods.

  
Then he takes my hands in his. “Congratulations, Wellbelove. I guess nothing can stand in the way of true love.”

  
“Baz!” Here comes Simon.

 

 

PENNY

 

I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell Simon and Agatha something. It’s our last year at Watford, and I feel like I’m the only one thinking about the future. Simon refuses to think about life after Watford, and Agatha refuses to think of a life for herself outside of Simon. Or Baz. Or the next boy that comes along, whoever he is.

  
I’m thinking about an internship. Miss Possibelf told me about it a couple months ago. I’d be working with a magick research association, creating new spells and potion recipes and submitting them for publication. I could be in textbooks that Watford students read years from now. The Mage and Natasha Pitch both did the program after they graduated.

  
It’s in America.

  
I asked Simon and Agatha for us to all meet up today so I could tell them the news. I’ve been accepted into the program. I got the message this morning.

  
Micah was so happy when I told him. I was surprised when he picked up the phone; long-distance makes it hard for us to connect sometimes. He wants us to get an apartment together when I move to America.

  
It’ll be convenient. I won’t have to pay a full rent by myself. And I’ll have someone to show me around America. Not just someone, I remind myself. Micah. The love of my life. It’s perfect, really. There’s no reason it shouldn’t be perfect.

  
So, there’s no reason for me to think about it anymore. I turn my thoughts towards other matters, like how I’m going to tell Simon and Agatha.

  
I’m walking with Simon toward the lawn, mulling over what I’m going to say. It’s been the three of us for so long, and I don’t want that to change.

  
How will Simon get on without me? I can’t count the number of times I’ve saved him with my magick. He’ll drink nothing but cold tea from now on, won’t he? He’ll make tea, leave it to steep and then forget all about it, and when he rediscovers it on the counter the next morning, I won’t be there to cast, “Some like it hot!” I’ll be cursing him to a lifetime of cold tea. And what about the next time he faces off against the Humdrum?

  
What about Agatha? Who’s going to pick up the pieces when they break each other’s hearts? The two of them are so stubborn, they’re going to force themselves to stay in a relationship until Agatha finds another boy to smile at her or Simon gets killed by the Humdrum.

  
Crowley, what if Simon gets killed by the Humdrum? What if graduation is the last time I ever see him? The Mage isn’t looking out for him. Agatha isn’t a strong enough mage to protect him. I’m leaving him to face the Humdrum all on his own.

  
I’m so deep in thought, I don’t even notice Simon is running away from me until I hear him scream. “Baz!”

  
“Simon!” I call after him. He keeps running. When it comes to Baz, or sour cherry scones, or blindly listening to the Mage, Simon’s like a dog with a bone. He’ll follow Baz through the catacombs at night or wake up at the crack of dawn for fresh scones or stay at Watford when the Mage has taken zero precautions to protect him from the Humdrum. He just can’t help himself. Once Simon’s decided that something is important to him, he doesn’t give up.

  
I walk after him. The lawn is hilly over here. Simon paces up a particularly high bump in long strides. Then he’s running downhill, and I lose sight of him. But I can still hear his voice, loud and stuttering and angry.

  
And then it’s gone. He was saying something like, “I can’t believe you—” and then he just stopped. I wait for him to start again. Simon does that a lot, when he’s talking, especially when he’s angry. His voice stops and starts like an old car engine sputtering to life. Sometimes what ends up coming out of his mouth isn’t even coherent.

  
But he doesn’t start again. He’s completely stopped, mid-rant.

  
That’s when I start running.

  
I think, he and Baz must be fighting. Or maybe Agatha has cut him off with a kiss.

  
It’s much worse than that. I bump into Simon at the bottom of the hill; he’s standing stock still.

  
Standing right in front of him is the Humdrum. He’s got that red ball with him, as always, and he’s smiling in that wrong, miserable-looking way of his, and he looks just like a younger Simon.

  
I hesitate.

  
Then the real Simon gets sucked away into a portal the Humdrum’s opened. I regain my composure and lift my hand to cast a spell on the Humdrum.

  
But it’s too late. I can’t say a word before I’m being swept away, too.

 

 

BAZ

 

Snow’s been back at Watford for a little more than five minutes before the Humdrum strikes again. (By “a little more than five minutes,” of course, I mean three months one week and four days.) (Still, it’s an incredibly short span of time for the idiot to get kidnapped by the Humdrum, twice).

  
It happens exactly like the last time, with me holding Wellbelove’s hands and Snow about to go off.

  
I was so sure they would break up. He walked in on Wellbelove holding my hands and gazing into my eyes, for Crowley’s sake.

  
But it turns out Snow’s rather forgiving, as long as you’re not a vampire that he thinks is plotting to kill him. He and Wellbelove reconciled within days after the incident.

  
He hasn’t spoken a word to me since. I can feel his magic buzzing around the room anytime we’re there at the same time. And I can feel his angry eyes on me in the dining hall. I still look at Wellbelove, just to make him angrier.

  
We’re all right back where we started.

  
But we won’t always be. It’s our last year at Watford. The next time I’ll be seeing Snow after graduation, we’ll be on opposite sides of a war.

  
I just want to get a reaction out of him. Something that tells me he still cares about what I do, even if only because he’s worried about how it’ll affect his relationship with his girlfriend.

  
It works. My name sounds so good in his mouth. Even when he’s screaming it. (Especially when he’s screaming it.) Then he’s standing right in front of me, coming undone. I can feel the magick pouring off of him, threatening to spill loose.

  
That’s right around the time when the Humdrum shows up.

  
I knew this was going to happen. It’s the same thing every time. The Chosen One and his sidekick return from another harrowing misadventure. The Mage says, _Golly gee! Well it sure is good you narrowly avoided perishing at the hands of the Humdrum, Simon! I would love to go after the Humdrum now, but unfortunately I’m devoting all of Watford’s resources to the much more important task of raiding innocent Magicians’ houses._

  
And now it’s happening again. The Humdrum smiles at us. He still has that infernal red ball with him. He doesn’t stop bouncing it off the ground as he holds out his other hand toward us, palm up.

  
Light pours out of that hand. It turns and takes shape into something else, something round and elongated. A gateway.

  
A portal, I realize. I haven’t seen many; they take a lot of magic to generate. This one looks especially potent. It shimmers with the promise of a faraway place.

  
Or, more likely, the forewarning of a faraway place. If it’s a place the Humdrum wants to go, it can’t be a good one.

  
Then the portal snaps forward, like it’s coming alive. It starts sucking in air like a vacuum. A really powerful vacuum. Along with the strands of grass and fallen leaves succumbing to its pull, I realize with a start that we, too, are being pulled in.

  
Snow’s angry scowl falls off his face, giving way to dumb shock. I can feel his magic leave as he’s swept away into the portal. I can feel my heart stop. Bunce raises her hand, the one with her big purple ring on it. But before she can utter a word, she goes too, her cape and her wild purple curls spilling out behind her.

  
It’s happening again. The Humdrum has Simon and Bunce back in his grasp, just like that.

  
The only difference between this time and last time is that Wellbelove and I are standing close enough that we get dragged in after them.

 

 

SIMON

  
I hate it when Baz is right. Ever since the Humdrum kidnapped me and Penny, he’s been saying that it would happen again, eventually. He says that the Mage doesn’t do enough to protect me, that I can’t possibly defend myself from the Humdrum if I can’t even control my own magic, that Penny might not be around to save me next time. Actually, he says, “Your sidekick might not be around to save you next time.” That’s the part of the story everyone gets wrong. Penny’s not my sidekick; if anything, it’s the other way around. Baz knows better; he’s seen how many times Penny’s had to save me when I couldn’t handle casting a spell myself. He just calls her that to infuriate me.

  
I haven’t talked to him at all. Not since I saw him with Agatha in the Wavering Woods. I’ve thought so much about what I want to say to him, how he’s selfish and plotting and evil. How he needs to stay away from Agatha. But anytime I’m around him, I get too angry to speak. I’ve tried talking to Penny about it. She just looked at me like I was daft. “What did you expect from him, Simon? He’s your enemy, and he’s been flirting with Agatha for years now. Are you really all that surprised?” She’s right, of course. I’m not surprised. I’m angry and hurt and jealous.

  
Which is stupid. Baz has been plotting to kill me for years. He’s pushed me down a flight of stairs and tried to feed me to a chimera. Yet, this one little thing hurts so much worse than all the others. If he really wants to kill me, this is the way to do it. All he did was make a move on my girlfriend, and I’m wounded.

  
He’s just been waiting for this to happen. Hoping that the Humdrum would come back for me and finally do me in. I catch him staring at me sometimes, face drawn and deep in thought. I bet he’s plotting all the ways he could get rid of me before graduation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had opened up the school’s gates for the Humdrum, himself.

  
Although, when I look at him now, I notice that he doesn’t look particularly happy about being right. He probably didn’t intend on being around when the Humdrum found me. In the war that’s brewing, the Humdrum is on nobody’s side. It doesn’t care what your name is or how powerful you are. It just takes and takes and takes. Like death. We all feel the strain on our magic. Agatha’s knees buckle, and she falls to the ground. Even Penny and Baz are struggling. Even me.

  
The only one not struggling is the eleven-year-old standing in front of us. He’s still bouncing my old red ball. He’s looking at me, but he doesn’t make a move toward me.

  
Finally, I ask. “Are we, um. Are we going to fight?”

  
Baz snorts. He’s hunched over where he’s stood, struggling to keep upright, but somehow he still manages to summon the energy required to mock me. Bastard.

  
The Humdrum shakes his head.

  
Penny speaks up beside me. **_“Take it back now, y’all!”_** It’s a spell we learned back in fourth year, when the Cha Cha Slide was growing in popularity. It’s meant to send whatever object you’re casting on flying away from your space. She’s got a shaky hand raised up against the Humdrum, pointing her ring at him.

  
Her magic sputters out weakly. The Humdrum doesn’t move an inch.

  
But the impact is still strong enough that it sends his hair flying back from his face. And maybe it hurt him a little, or at the very least annoyed him, because he looks rather angry at being hit.

  
I start talking in a desperate bid to distract him from Penny. “Why did you bring us here? You -- you came for me, right? Just let everyone else g--” My voice breaks. I try again. “Let everyone else go, and we can settle this. Once and for all.”

  
Again, he shakes his head. Then he says, ** _“A dream is a wish your heart makes.”_**

  
The last thing I see before I fall asleep is that red ball, bouncing on the cold hard ground.

 

 

BAZ

 

It’s a spell designed to put someone into a deep sleep. While they sleep, they dream of the thing they want most. If the spell isn’t broken, they’ll stay asleep forever, trapped in a dream.

  
I’m the first to wake up, and I can’t even be smug about breaking the spell before Bunce because I’m feeling so miserable from that dream.

  
Gold curls. Blue eyes. My name back in that mouth, only this time it was so much softer. “Baz.” And then that mouth was pressed to mine, and I thought, _Impossible._

  
And then I was awake.

  
That’s how you break the spell. “A dream is a wish your heart makes.” You have to let the wish go in order to wake up. Of course I was the first to wake. Snow is a wish I let go of a long time ago.

  
The three of them are completely out. (Snow doesn’t even stir when I kick his foot.) I think to myself, if I were ever going to kill Snow, this would be the perfect time.

  
But I’m not. Even if I was, I wouldn’t want to do it like this. I’d want a fair fight.

  
Then I think, I could just leave them here. I could leave them, and Snow wouldn’t be my problem anymore. I wouldn’t have to worry about sharing a living space with the goddamned sun, I wouldn’t have to think about crashing into him, I wouldn’t have to keep avoiding the inevitable. There would be no fallout, no crash, no killing or burning or falling apart at each other’s hands. There would be no more making Snow go off, no more pushing him as hard as I could get away with, no more of him yelling my name. No more pretending to hate him, no more watching him sleep, no more feeling his eyes on me in a crowded room. I’d finally be free of the terrible burden that is loving Simon Snow.

  
I decide to wake up Wellbelove first, since I can’t stand the idea of seeing what Snow’s deepest desire is, and Bunce is sure to wake herself up any minute. (Then she can go rescue Snow from his dream of marrying Wellbelove) (or defeating the Humdrum) (or ridding the world of me.)

  
**_“In your dreams!”_** I cast, and suddenly I’m covered in a suffocating heat and blinded by the sun, and there she is, lying on a reclining chair, tanning away.

 

 

AGATHA

  
I swear I’m about to fall asleep in my chair when a sharp voice starts me awake. “Typical Wellbelove. Could have anything in the world, and you choose sunbathing.”

  
My eyes snap open, and there he is, looking totally foreign and vampirish under the California sun. A picture perfect Dracula. “Baz. What are you doing here?”

  
He doesn’t say, _I’m here looking for you because I’m madly in love with you._ He says, “Do you even like him?” and I think, unbelievable. Go all the way to fucking California, and somehow you’re still caught in the Simon Snow Show.

  
I sit up and turn so I’m facing him, sat sideways on my seat. “I love Simon, Baz. I may not love him the way I’m supposed to, but I love him as best I can. Someone has to.”

  
He flinches. It’s an unbecoming look on him. “How’d you know I was talking about Snow?”

  
“He’s all you ever talk about. It’s the same with him, you know.” I stare ahead at the horizon, and I know I look pensive and dramatic with it lit up against my face, turning my hair to fire. “I know I’m never going to love him enough. But I have to try. Simon Snow needs someone to be in love with him.”

  
“Because he’s the Chosen One?”

  
I drag my eyes back to him just so _I_ can look at him like _he’s_ daft, for once. “Because that’s the closest thing he’s ever going to get to a family.”

  
It’s a long time before Baz speaks. He looks like he might be sick. “We’re getting off track. Look, Wellbelove, you’re not in California. The Humdrum cast a spell. This is a dream. It isn’t real.”

  
I laugh. I can’t help it. This is a dream. The Humdrum cast a spell. Of course. “Of course this isn’t real,” I say. “Nothing else is.”

  
When I wake up, I'm curled up next to Simon Snow with a smile on my face that I know looks nothing short of perfect.

 

 

BAZ

  
I don’t wake up next to Wellbelove. I’m in…

  
...Watford?

  
More specifically, my mother’s old office.

  
I should be awake now.

  
Did I cast the spell wrong?

 

 

PENELOPE

  
I can’t believe Basil managed to wake up before me.

 

 

BAZ

  
I haven’t cast a spell wrong since first year.

 

 

PENELOPE

  
He looks a bit rattled.

  
Basil never looks rattled.

 

 

BAZ

  
I must have cast the spell on all three of them, not just Wellbelove.

 

 

PENELOPE

  
“Hello, Basil,” I try.

 

 

BAZ

 

Merlin, this means I’m going to show up in Snow’s dream next, doesn’t it?

 

 

PENELOPE

  
“Bunce,” he greets. “I’m kind of having a bad day, so I’m going to make this quick. You’re dreaming. None of this is real.”

  
“You’re a little late Basil. I already figured that out on my own.” I take another look around the office: my portrait on the wall, letters from Simon and a postcard from Agatha, and the Mage’s desk. All mine. “Trapped by my own ambition. Figures.”

  
“So you know this is a dream?” He still looks to be getting his bearings.

  
“I’m sitting at the Mage’s desk, my portrait hanging on the wall. Of course this is a dream.”

  
“Well if you know it’s a dream,” he says, all snarl and contempt, “why haven’t you woken up?” He’s all Basil. The most real thing in this room.

  
I know he’s the only real thing here. And yet…

  
“I know it’s a dream,” I say, “but it feels so real.”

  
“Bunce,” he says, “please don’t make this hard on me. I just want to wake you all up, go to Mumfords, and sleep.”

  
“You realize you’re sleeping now?”

  
He sneers. “I _know_ I’m sleeping, but it _feels_ so much like I’m saving you arses from the Humdrum.” I don’t bother responding to that, and we spend the next minute thinking of ways to wake me up.

  
“I don't suppose you've tried pinching yourself?”

  
I don't bother responding to that, either.

  
“Close your eyes for a minute, and then open them again,” he says.

  
“Already tried it.”

  
He huffs. Another minute goes by. “Okay,” he says, “there’s a difference between knowing and believing, right? So you know this is a dream, but you don’t believe it because it seems so real?”

  
“Exactly.”

  
“So, maybe if I tell you something unbelievable, something so impossible it can't be true, you'll be so shocked that you wake up.”

  
This is enough to pique my interest, at least. “Alright, Pitch. What have you got?”

  
“I’m in love with Snow.”

  
“Oh,” I say. Then, “That makes sense.” Then, “Why tell me that?”

Now he looks even more rattled. “One,” he starts, “I’m starting to think Dream Me doesn’t have as much impulse control as Awake Me. Two,” and now he turns his wide eyes on me, “that makes _sense_ to you?”

  
I look around the room once more, taking it all in. It really does feel real. I guess even lies look real, when they’re looking right at you.

  
But this isn’t really a lie, is it? It’s my deepest desire.

  
I wonder why Micah isn’t here.

  
I turn back to Basil. “You know what the problem with this room is? It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything that I know I’ll have… one day. How can I go back, when this dream feels righter to me than the world I left behind?” I give him an inquisitive look. “How did you wake up, Basil?”

  
He swallowed. “I guess it’s easier to let go of something when you’ve already accepted that you can never have it. If I can’t have it for real, then I don’t want it at all.”

  
“'Real,'” I repeat. “What’s real, anyway? Simon and Agatha’s relationship isn’t real. You hating Simon isn’t real.” I take another look around. “This room might be a dream, but it’s not a lie. It feels more real to me than the life I’m living out there.” And that’s when it hits me. This dream feels righter to me than the life I’m living out there. “I’m not in love with Micah at all.”

  
Agatha’s already up when I wake.

 

 

BAZ

  
So Bunce managed to wake herself up, after all.

  
Leaving Snow.

  
_Merlin, this is going to be hard,_ I think.

  
And then I'm lying in a bed.

 

 

SIMON

  
I can't believe Baz still isn't awake.

 

 

BAZ

  
In jeans.

 

 

SIMON

  
“Baaaz?”

 

 

BAZ

  
Who goes to bed in jeans?

 

 

SIMON

 

  
Finally, he comes sauntering down the stairs. Me and Penny have already made breakfast. Sour cherry scones, plus coffee for her and Baz and an extra stick of butter for me. I’m about to tease Baz about sleeping in this morning when I see his face.

  
He looks like a wreck. Worse than when he came back to Watford in the middle of eighth year. I freeze, sour cherry scone held up halfway to my mouth. “Baz? You okay?”

  
Baz stammers, which is all wrong. Stammering’s my job. “Um,” he says. And that’s all he says.

  
“Basil,” Penny says, “come drink some of this coffee before I have it all.”

  
He says it again. “Um.”

 

 

BAZ

  
Um.

 

PENNY

  
Basil looks frazzled. Strange. Basil never looks frazzled.

  
Then again, he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet. I offer him some, but he’s still standing in the middle of our hallway, looking like a lost puppy. A lost vampire puppy. But still, a puppy nonetheless.

  
Maybe he just needs a minute to get his head together. He’s been rather stressed since he’s taken on the new Headmaster position at Watford. I tell Simon, “We got another letter from Agatha.”

  
Simon pulls his eyes away from Baz to answer me. “How is she?”

  
“She’s great. She says she’s loving California, and she’s made a lot of Normal friends.”

  
“That’s great; I’m glad she’s happy.”

  
“Simon,” Basil says. Then, “Snow.” He looks embarrassed.

  
“Snow?” Simon says. “Are we back to fifth year, then?”

  
“I need to talk to you.” He shoots a pointed glance in my direction.

  
Normally, I’d probably pretend not to see what he was getting at and sit at the table another minute, just to fuck with him. But I can tell he and Simon are about to have a serious talk. I clear my throat. “Right. I need to be going, anyway. All those holes the Humdrum left aren’t going to fill themselves!” I pour the remainder of my coffee into my to-go cup.

  
Baz perks up. “Are you saying we beat the Humdrum?”

  
I snort. “Obviously. Don’t you remember? I know you have morning brain, Basil, but come on. It was the end of eighth year? You, me and Simon killed him?”

 

 

BAZ

  
My blood runs cold. I know it’s just a dream, but even the idea of me killing the Humdrum is sending shivers through me. I know he’s evil, and of course I want him gone one day, but. He looks like Simon.

  
“We killed him?” I say. “But… he was just a little kid. I mean, not really, obviously. But--”

  
“Baz, what are you talking about?” Snow is looking at me with those worried eyes he only ever reserves for Wellbelove and Bunce. It sends a flutter through me that I try to tamp down.

  
“The Humdrum wasn’t a little kid, Basil.” Bunce is also looking worried. “He was just a guy.”

  
That’s when it hits me. Simon’s dreaming that the Humdrum doesn’t look like him. He’s dreaming that the Humdrum just looks like some guy, and the only connection he has with the Humdrum is that he killed him.

  
“Anyway,” Bunce is saying, “I really do have to go. Bye, Simon. Bye, Baz.”

  
“Tell the Mage I say hi!” Simon calls after her.

  
And he’s dreaming that Bunce works with the Mage, fixing the world that the Humdrum broke. And that I’m Headmaster at Watford. And I live with him and Bunce.

  
Crowley. This can’t be… Simon doesn’t -- Snow doesn’t want me. Not as a friend, not as a roommate, and definitely not as a boyfriend.

  
“Baz.” Snow gets up, and before I know it he’s walking up to me and holding my head in his hands. “What’s wrong?”

  
“I -- um.” Fuck a nine toed troll. He’s got me stuttering again.

  
“I know something’s wrong, so just tell me what it is.” He’s looking deep into my eyes, and I can’t look anywhere but him. He’s the sun, and I’m crashing into him. “We’re a family, remember?” he says. He brings one hand away from my face (I mourn the loss of contact) and reaches down to take my hand.

  
That’s when I notice I’m wearing a ring. He reaches for it with his thumb, stroking back and forth.

  
My breath catches in my throat. He’s wearing one, too.

  
“Simon. Are we -- are we married?”

 

 

SIMON

  
Baz is really starting to scare me. He’s started pacing up and down the hall, raking his hands through his hair. It makes his hair stick up in a way I’d appreciate a lot more if I wasn’t so worried about him.

  
I step in front of him so he can’t move past me. I reach for his hand again. He steps back before I can touch him.

  
“No,” he says. I can’t tell if he’s saying it to me or himself. “This isn’t real.”

  
“Wha--”

  
“This isn’t real, Snow. It’s just a dream you’re trapped in. The Humdrum cast a spell on all of us, and you’re the only one who’s still asleep…”

  
He’s starting to babble. Again, I can’t help but think it’d be cute, if he weren’t scaring the hell out of me. “Baz.” I start to reach for him again. I pull back when I remember he doesn’t want that right now. It hurts, having this distance between us. It hurts like eighth year, when we were still enemies, but I didn’t want to be anymore. It hurts like every time I wanted to hold his hand or comfort him or tell him I loved him, but I couldn’t because I didn’t think he’d want to hear that from me. “This is real,” I say. “It’s you and me.”

  
He screws his face up into a scowl so deep, it looks like it must pain him to keep it up. It’s the same look he used on me back at Watford, only worse because now I know he only ever scowls like that when he’s feeling scared or vulnerable. When he’s trying to push me away. “You want real, Snow? What’s real is that Wellbelove is your happily ever after, not me.”

  
Agatha? I haven’t even seen her since she moved to California.

  
Baz is still talking. “I make terrible family, you can ask, and the _real_ Simon Snow would never have me, anyway.”  

  
I’m crying. He’s serious. “I don’t believe you,” I say.

  
“Believe this. One day, you’re going to kill me, or I’m going to kill you. But for now, you’re dreaming, and I need you to wake up so we can all go home already! Bunce needs her best friend to comfort her while her relationship dissolves. Wellbelove needs her chosen one to give her a sense of purpose. And I need my roommate and sworn enemy to come back with us, conscious, so that maybe, just maybe one of these days, he can put me out of my misery and rid the world of me!” He’s stepped closer to me while he’s yelling. I think I can feel his hand on my face, swiping away a tear.

But I can’t say that for sure, because the whole world is falling apart around us, and I can’t see him anymore, and I can’t feel him and

  
I’m awake.

 

 

AGATHA

  
“Why didn’t he kill us?” Penny says it to me, but probably because I’m the only other person who’s awake. She’d be discussing theories with Simon or even Baz if one of them was up. Really, I think she just likes thinking out loud. She’d probably be talking to herself, if I were still out. “He had to know there was a chance we’d wake up. So, why risk it? Why not just kill us, and be done with it?” She’s looking at Simon.

  
“You think he needs Simon,” I say. “You think he needs Simon alive.”

  
She frowns. “There has to be a reason he looks like Simon.” She doesn’t want to say it. She probably feels like she’s betraying Simon, even thinking it. (I know they love each other. It’s hard not to get jealous.) Simon is the most powerful mage the world has ever known. The Humdrum is the most powerful villain the world has ever known. And he looks just like a younger Simon, down to the red ball that he used to keep. Penny’s right; there has to be a reason.

  
But I know she doesn’t want to think about what that reason is. It’s easier to think of the Humdrum as the enemy and Simon as the hero. The moment you think that maybe they’re connected, one in the same, that Simon unwittingly created the Humdrum or functions as some kind of life source for the Humdrum… Well, the moment you think that, our story goes to hell, doesn’t it? You can’t have a hero who’s also the villain.

  
So I don’t make her say it. I just ask her what she dreamed about.

  
She smiles. “Watford. You and Simon going on adventures and being happy. What about you?”

  
I tell her, “I was on the beach. It was sunny. And I wasn’t thinking of Watford or magick or anything like that. You probably think that’s stupid…”

  
“I don’t,” she says. “Crowley, Agatha, you can’t control what makes you happy. If living on the beach would make you happy, then there’s nothing stupid about it.” That makes me smile, and she smiles back. We don’t usually talk like this. Like we understand each other. It’s nice. Then she says, “Micah wasn’t in my dream.”

  
“Simon wasn’t in my dream, either.”

  
She says, “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  
I laugh, despite myself.

  
Then she says, “I’ve been chosen for an internship after the year ends. It’s in America.”

  
And then, before I can say a word back to her, Simon and Baz are waking up.

 

 

PENNY

  
The walk back to Watford is brutal. We walk in silence, and the air is heavy with all the things we are not saying.

  
I don’t even get the chance to finish my conversation with Agatha about America.

  
Simon’s intermittently opening and closing his mouth, like he wants to speak but he can’t find the words. He’s staring at Baz, but that’s nothing new.

  
Baz is staring straight ahead, leading the rest of us back. He says nothing. He seems to have developed a preoccupation with his hands.

  
Hmm. Interesting.

  
We’re nearing the school when Simon finds a word. “Baz.”

  
Baz stops. “Yes, Snow?” He doesn’t turn around, but if I crane my head I think I can catch sight of a light blush on his face.

  
Simon falters. “I -- um.”

  
“Simon?” Agatha’s looking at them. She’s clearly wondering why we’ve stopped in front of the school.

  
Simon stiffens. “Um…”

  
Baz casts a look between him and Agatha. “Right,” he says. And then he smirks at Agatha, just like normal. “See you around, Wellbelove. Snow,” he adds, glancing back at Simon for a second. And then he’s off, leaving the three of us stood there.

  
We’re quiet again. Agatha’s still looking at Simon. Simon’s still looking off in the direction where Baz went.

  
“I know this might not be a good time,” I say, “but I got accepted to work at an internship after graduation. It’s in America.”

  
Agatha closes her eyes and leaves them shut for a moment. She looks like she’s wishing away a headache. I could cast a spell for that, but I know how she feels about using magic for small things.

  
Simon’s quiet. His magic’s not, though. I can hear it humming in the air like electrical wire. He curls in on himself, like he’s trying to keep it all inside. But he must give up, because then he’s storming off.

  
Agatha and I exchange a look. Unexpectedly, she smiles at me. “Did you really tell me about the internship before Simon?”

  
I roll my eyes. “Don’t get too flattered. I would’ve told you both at the same time, but he was unconscious.”

 

 

BAZ

  
It’s not possible. The Humdrum must have cast the spell wrong.

  
Snow does not…

  
He’s with Wellbelove. And he hates me. I’ll avoid him for awhile, and then we can go on with our lives as if this stupid day never happened.

  
I can’t get my hopes up. The only thing that’s made living with Snow tolerable is accepting the fact that he will never love me back. If I lose that, then Snow won’t need to rid the world of me. I’ll do the job for him.

 

 

SIMON

  
I knew Baz was on his way to the Catacombs, because we were trapped by the Humdrum for awhile and he was looking rather pale. (Then again, that could just be because he saw me dreaming about him.) (Don’t think about it.) (You might go off if you think about it too much.)

  
Still, I couldn’t go back to our room. I don’t want the next time I see him to be when he walks in on me lying in bed, thinking (probably about him) (who am I kidding, definitely about him) or sleeping (God, not sleeping) (I’m never going to sleep again). It would feel too much like I was waiting for him, or like he had me cornered.

  
Besides, our room is too small to pace in.

  
So I just wandered around the school grounds in a daze, until finally (inevitably) (cursedly) I ended up back in the Wavering Wood. (Fuck the Wavering Wood.)

  
I thought I was going to go off, but eventually the magic coils itself back inside me, restless and aching but secure inside my chest. Thank God. I wouldn’t have hurt anyone. (I'm so deep in the woods, there's no one else around for miles.) But the dryads have made it clear that I am not to burn up or chop down anymore of their living space. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  
Then I hear leaves rustling just a few feet away from me.

  
“Hello? Who’s there?”

  
“Hi, Simon.”

  
I can’t believe I thought I was alone. Of course she followed me. “Penny! I could’ve killed you!”

  
She shuffles out from behind the bushes and tries to look sheepish. “I know enough magic to defend myself, Simon. Even from you.” I don’t know what to say to that. She’s right. Still. Penny should never have to defend herself from me. Ever. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

  
I don’t know if she means the weird tension with me and Baz, or how I couldn’t look at Agatha the whole way home, or her leaving for America. It doesn’t matter. I shake my head.

  
She nods, like she expected as much. “Do you want to get some tea?” she asks.

  
“In a minute,” I say. I can still feel my magic buzzing just beneath my skin. I sink down to the ground and rest my back against a tree, because I’m exhausted.

  
She sits next to me, and wraps her arm around me in that way she does. I bury my face in her shoulder because I’m tired, and I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t want to let go either.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon needs to talk to Baz. Agatha visits Penny.

PENELOPE

 

“Is everything okay?”  On the other line, Micah’s voice is thick with concern.  “You don’t sound like you’re excited about moving to America.”

 

We've been on the phone for a good half and hour, talking all about the internship and my upcoming move.  It was going perfectly fine, until he asked me what color scheme my room is.   _'So I can buy things that match for the apartment,'_  he said.  

 

“I’m excited about America,” I tell him.  I am, actually. I’m excited to go somewhere new and work at this internship and be in a place where all my magic and hard work and good ideas can finally be used for a greater purpose.  

 

But…

 

“I don’t think we’re ready to move in together,” I say.  

 

“Oh.”  Micah’s quiet on the other line.  If it wasn’t for the sound of his breathing, I would think he’d hung up on me.    

 

“Is that okay?” I ask.

 

Then, because he’s perfect, he says, “Yeah.  Of course. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you’re not ready for.”

 

“Thanks,” I say.  How can I even be considering breaking up with him?  Logically, it doesn’t make any sense. I can hear someone knock on my door then, thank Crowley, so I don’t have to think about it anymore.  “I’ve gotta go,” I tell him, “someone’s at my door.” It’s probably Simon. He’s been having a tough time, since that day.

 

Or maybe it’s Percy.  He’s been a lot more friendly to me ever since he found out about my internship.  He probably wants to ask me about getting the Magickal Association to produce more spells that will be helpful to the Mage’s Men.  That’s my brother; people only become worth his time when they can be useful to him.  Still, talking to him would be much preferable to talking to Micah right now.

 

“Okay,” he says.  “Bye, love you.”

 

I hang up.  

 

Then I open the door, ready to argue with Percy or console Simon.  

 

“Oh.  Hi, Agatha.”  I’m surprised to see it’s her at my door.  We’re friends (I think), but she doesn’t usually come to me like this.  We usually only ever see each other when we’re both with Simon.  

 

“Hi, Penny,” she says.  “I wanted to ask you a favor.  Can I come in?”

 

 

BAZ

 

It’s been a month since an eleven year old ruined my life. I didn’t think Snow could get harder to live with.

 

It’s worse than fifth year. He’s everywhere.

 

In class. At lunch. In our goddamned room. Everywhere, I can feel him looking at me. Thinking about me. I didn’t know you could feel someone thinking about you, physically feel it, but leave it to Simon bloody Snow to defy the laws of physics. I can smell his magic in the air, burning leaves and sharp cedar, pressing against me. A constant reminder.

 

But he hasn’t said a word to me.

 

He and Wellbelove broke up. Dev told me at lunch the other day.

 

I tried to look bored. “So?”

 

“So,” he said, “now’s your chance to make a move on Wellbelove.”

 

Niall quirked a brow at me. Probably because most blokes wouldn’t need their friend to tell them they should make a move on Wellbelove; they would come to that conclusion on their own. Especially if they’d been flirting with her over the last couple years.

 

I tried my best to look bored, but it was harder than usual. (I’ve been on edge all week.) “Like Snow ever stopped me from making a move on Wellbelove.”

 

Dev and Niall snickered. The rest of lunch went on normally. I valiantly did not let it show that I was desperate to know why Snow and Wellbelove broke up.

 

Did he break up with her? No, Snow would never give up Wellbelove. What would the Chosen One be, without his damsel in distress?

 

No, it must have been Wellbelove. I don’t know why she would break up with him. (Then again, I may be biased. I don’t know why anyone would break up with him.) It’s impossible to tell what Wellbelove’s thinking at any given moment. She’s easy to underestimate, and I think she likes it that way. Maybe she decided she wanted to be more than the damsel in distress.

 

Or maybe she just found another boy to smile at her. Hard to say.

 

I wonder how Snow’s taking the breakup. (I’m not going to ask him.) (He’d take it the wrong way, anyway.)

 

 

PENELOPE

 

With one sweeping gesture, I step aside and welcome Agatha into the room.  “Wow,” she says as she walks in.

 

“What?”  I scan the room for anything shocking: forbidden texts or cursed objects or stains left from potion spills.  But I can’t find anything too incriminating. Last week, I charmed a textbook to fly, and it’s still flapping away in a corner of the room now.  That’s hardly surprising, for me, though.

 

Agatha isn’t looking at the flying book.  I realize she’s looking at the suitcases I’ve started filling.  “You’re packing already,” she says.  

 

“Yeah,” I say.  “You know I like to work ahead.  I don’t like to leave anything to the last minute.”

 

“Yeah,” she says.  She takes a seat at the end of my bed.  “You’ll be living with Micah, then?”

 

I sit sideways in the chair at my desk so I can face her.  There's a bit of pixie dust stuck on the back of it.  I start to pick at it.  “No. I won’t be living with Micah.”

 

She raises a brow.  “Did you break up?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you going to?”

  
“No.  I don’t know,” I admit.  “I don’t even like to think about what I’ll do when I see Micah.”

 

She does a double take, at that.  “But you’re… you,” she says. “You like to think about everything.  You once wrote an essay on the importance of proper wand maintenance.  For fun.  And you don’t even use a wand!” She bites her lip, and I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

 

“Well, it’s an important topic!” I say.  Now she _is_ laughing.  “It is! And even if it wasn’t, I’d still rather write a hundred essays on wand maintenance than talk to Micah about our relationship.”

 

Her laughter fades.  She looks at me earnestly.  “Why?”

 

I sigh.  “I’ve always been driven by logic,” I say.  “I never really need to listen to my feelings, because as long as something is logical, I usually feel okay with it.  This is the first time my feelings haven’t agreed with what’s logical. Even though, logically, me and Micah should be perfect for each other… my feelings are telling me something different.”  I slump over in my seat, feeling defeated. “It’s the first time logic’s ever failed me.”

 

Agatha snorts.  I look up and see that she is severely unimpressed.  She says, “Was it logical for you to become best friends with the disaster that is Simon Snow?  Was it logical for you and me to be friends, when you’re the best student at Watford and I hate magic?"  Her brow is raised; a challenge.  "Maybe you’re logical when it comes to school and magic, but when it comes to people you just do whatever you want.”

 

I open my mouth to argue, but then I realize I don't have any argument for that.  "You're right." 

 

“It’s not a bad thing.”  I look back up at her. “It’s one of the best things about you,” she says.  “You don’t care about consequences or rules or what other people might think.  When it comes to the people you care about, you’re all heart.”

 

She’s smiling at me.  I smile back.

 

“So,” I say, “we’re friends?”

 

“I should hope so,” she says.  “I ventured into your room just to see you, and I know for a fact you have cursed objects and forbidden texts in here.”

 

“Crowley, Simon,” I curse.  “Trust him to keep a secret.”

 

She laughs.  “Don’t worry.  I’m here to ask you a favor, remember?  I doubt you’d be willing to help me if I reported you to the Mage.”

 

“Right,” I say.  “So, what did you need help with?”

  
She hesitates.  I think I actually catch her looking around the room, as if she thinks someone might be listening in on our conversation.  “Do you know any spells to break a charm?”

 

“Well, sure,” I say.  “But what charm did you want to break?”  I figure it'll be something simple, like the charm I used on my flying textbook.  Agatha doesn't generally deal with extreme charms.  When it comes to magic, she tends to avoid the extreme at all costs. 

 

That’s when Agatha tells me about what her parents did to her.  She’s spelled so that she can never speak a word to her Normal friends about magic or Watford or me or Simon.

 

“Agatha,” I gasp, “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

 

She’s quiet.  “I thought you would side with my parents.”

 

“I don’t,” I say.  “Magic should never be used like that.  Crowley. They’ve practically put a muzzle on you.”

 

She shudders.  “Thanks for that imagery.”

 

“I don’t know any spells to break a charm like that,” I say, “but I’ll find one.  Or I’ll make one myself. I promise.”

 

She jumps up from my bed and runs up to me, wrapping me in a hug.  “Thank you,” she says.

 

“Of course.”  I pull away from her.  “So, is that what you’re going to do after graduation?  Live with your Normal friends?” It takes a second for me to remember the name of that girl she’s friends with.  “Like Minty?” I say, ingeniously acting like I knew her name all along.

 

“I don’t know,” she says, looking uncharacteristically nervous for Agatha.  “I hope so. I haven’t really asked her about it yet.”

 

“You should do that,” I say.  “Best not to leave things for the last minute.”  I cast a pointed glance at my suitcases. “But you must have asked me to break the charm on you for a reason.  You’re going to tell her, right? Now that you don’t have to be afraid of your parents finding out, you want to tell her everything.”

 

I thought I had learned all of Agatha’s faces by now.  She makes her lips pout when she’s disappointed with Simon or angry with Baz.  She frowns and stares into nothing during class, bored and pulled into herself.  She smiles at everyone she passes in the hall, not because she likes them but because she knows she has a beautiful smile.  

 

The face she makes now is one I’ve never seen before.  Her jaw is clenched, and her chin is raised to make her look tough.  But her eyes are wide and scared, like an animal caught in a trap.  She looks small and hurt, and painfully aware of it.  “I want to have the option to tell her,” she says.

 

 

SIMON

 

“Baz, this is stupid. It’s been a month.” We’re both in the room now, but we haven’t said anything to each other. He hasn't even looked at me. I don’t know why he’s being such a git. At the very least, he should be teasing me about dreaming that we were married. I had dreaded the thought of it, him smirking at me and all the comments he would make. _No worries, Snow, I know I’m irresistible._ Or, _I know you’re obsessed with me, but marriage is a bit much._

 

But silence is so much worse. At least if he mocked me, I could just take it and move on. But he hasn’t said one word to me since that day.

 

Today, it occurred to me that maybe my dream made him uncomfortable. Maybe he’s homophobic, or just so repulsed by me that he can’t stand to be around me now that he knows how I feel about him.

 

Fuck. I didn’t even know how I felt about him, until I had that dream. I wouldn’t have been with Agatha, if I had known. I thought I hated Baz, but...

 

Not talking to him this past month has been Hell.

 

He curls his lip at me now, and fuck, I missed that. (What’s wrong with me?) (When did I start growing fond of that scowl?) “I don’t know what you’re talking about Snow.” He goes back to reading his textbook and ignoring my existence.

 

I walk up to where he’s sat at his desk and close the book. “Yes. You do.”

 

“No, I don’t. So tell me.” He raises his chin at me. It’s a challenge. I’m bad with words at the best of times, and this is not the best of times. He wants me to say it. That I had a dream about him. That he was one of the “wishes” my heart made, or whatever that spell said.

 

A low growl starts in my throat. “Can you just be mature, for once, and talk to me about this?”

 

“How can we talk about it if you can’t even say what happened?”

 

“Baz.”

 

“Snow.”

 

I give. “Fine! If you don’t want to talk about it, I don’t care. We can keep on ignoring each other for the rest of the year, and it doesn’t make a difference to me. Just--” Fuck. I was doing so well, but I stop short in the middle of my next sentence. “Just. Look. If you’re uncomfortable, because of my dream, then I can talk to the Mage, and we can sort out this roommate problem once and for all. There has to be an extra room we could--” I trail off. Baz is staring daggers at me. “What?”

 

“You think you made me uncomfortable, Snow?” He stands up from his desk now, and I think he might punch me. I’m about to say, “Anathema,” but he keeps going. “You make me bloody insane, that’s what you make me.” He moves forward again, and I brace myself for whatever he’s going to do. For a second, I think he might kiss me, which is the most ridiculous thought I could have.

 

He doesn’t kiss me, or hit me. He just moves past me for the door, and then he’s gone.

 

 

BAZ

 

I spend the rest of the day in the Catacombs, taking out my frustrations on the rats. I visit Mum, because it's not like I’m miserable enough already.

 

He wants to move out of the room. He hasn’t asked the Mage if he could move out since first year.

 

It’s late night when I finally get back to the room. Snow is pretending to sleep in his bed. I can hear the difference in his breathing that means he’s awake.

 

I ignore him. Let him pretend he’s sleeping. I can’t stand another confrontation with him, anyway. I bury my head in my pillow until merciful sleep takes me away.

 

I know right away that the Snow in my dream is the real Snow. I don’t know how I know. Maybe because the dream doesn’t devolve into an erotic grope fest right away. Maybe because Snow is looking at me so intently. (In my dreams, he only ever looks at me with disdain or a mocking satisfaction.)

 

“Snow,” I say. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to break into other people’s dreams?”

 

“Penny said something about it being a bad idea. But I needed to talk to you, and I’m afraid if I do it in real life, I’ll go off or you’ll hit me. Plus, now we’re even.” He shrugs. 

 

“We’re not close to even,” I say, “since I went into your dream to save you from an endless sleep, and you just went into mine because you can’t control your own magic. Speaking of,” I add, “I’m going to assume Bunce helped you do this, since you still haven’t learned how to do a simple spell on your own without going off. Unless -- do you smell smoke, Snow? Is my blanket on fire?”

 

“Penny helped,” Snow says. “Stop trying to make me mad. We need to talk.”

 

“I don’t try to make you mad, Snow, I succeed at it. Admirably.”

 

“Baz.” Snow runs a hand through his hair, pushing back the curls.  When they bounce back onto his head, they land all in different places than where they were before. “I just want things to go back to normal. So, say whatever you want to say to me. Mock me for having a dream about you, tell me I’m the worst Chosen One who was ever chosen, or something.”

 

“You’re the worst Chosen One ever chosen,” I say. “Can you please get out of my head now?” He just stands there, and I realize he’s not leaving until he’s satisfied. “Fine,” I say. If he wants me to mock him, I can do that. “I can’t believe you dreamed of me,” I say. “I keep trying to rationalize it in my head. ‘Maybe the Humdrum cast the spell wrong.’ ‘Maybe we weren’t married at all, and we just happened to be wearing matching rings for some reason.’ ‘Maybe I hallucinated the whole thing.’ None of which is a convincing theory, but all infinitely more likely than Simon Snow dreaming he was married to me. ‘Simon Snow,’ I remind myself, ‘hates me.’” I pause in my ranting and look at him, as if for confirmation.

 

“I did--” He falters. Takes a step toward me. “I thought I did--”

 

“‘And even Simon Snow wouldn’t be stupid enough to go looking for a future and a family and his happy ending with me. Baz Pitch, vampire, son of Natasha Grimm, a disappointment to his entire family. Prophesied to kill Simon Snow or die trying.’”

 

Simon’s taking another step toward me. “Baz--”

 

“‘Even Simon Snow, as much of a disaster as he is, wouldn’t be that stupid." At some point, during my ranting, I lost all my anger. My voice came out low now, pleading. "Would he?’”

 

“Baz.” And then he’s right in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me close.

 

_Impossible,_ I think, as his lips hit mine.

 

But I never want to wake up.


	3. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting is a little different on this one. Let me know if it bothers you, and I'll try and fix it.
> 
> Also remember, this chapter is shorter than the others! But I hope you still enjoy it :)

PENNY

“Would you lovebirds hurry up?”  This week has been tedious enough, with graduation and the visit from my parents and the plane ride to America.  I feel desperate to get on the road already, onto my internship and the rest of our lives.    

The road trip was Agatha’s idea.  One last time for us to all be together before we go our separate ways.  We spent the weekend helping her unpack at her new place. Now we’re off to New York. She’ll drop us at ours and then make her way back to California.  

I was surprised when I heard she wanted to spend the extra time together.  “Of course I do,” she said. “You guys are my best friends.”

It also doesn’t hurt that Minty’s waiting for her in New York.  Agatha’s going to pick her up after she drops us off and then take her with her back to their new place in California. 

She's the complete picture of Cali bliss, with a big pair of sunglasses resting on her head and newly manicured nails which are now messing with the dial on the radio. She looks just as ready for the future as I am. Next to her in the car, my History of Magick textbook has claimed my spot in shotgun.  We’ve got all our bags put away in the trunk, and I’ve put aside some snacks in the glove box for Simon. We’re all ready to go, except…

“Simooon!  Baz,” I call.  “Come on.”

Finally, the two of them shuffle outside.  Baz looks like death. He usually does, but it’s more pronounced this early in the morning.  He sneers at the rising sun like it’s personally offended him. I lead him and Simon out to the car.  

Baz pauses in front of it and looks at it with distaste.  “Are we sure Wellbelove knows how to drive this thing?”

Agatha gives him the finger, never looking up from the radio.

“Come on,” Simon smiles.  He takes Baz's hand and leads him to the back seats.  I settle into shotgun and reach into the glove box for a bag of chips. Salt and vinegar. Simon’s favorite. I toss it to him.

He catches the bag with an appreciative sound.  “Did we bring sour cherry scones?”

“What are we, strangers?” I say.  I grab a bag of sour cherry scones and toss that to him, as well.

“Thanks, Penny!”  He rips into the bag and shovels out a handful of chips, which he quickly washes down with a sour cherry scone.  Beside him, Baz looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Crowley, it’s going to be hard to live with them.  Since they went from enemies to boyfriends, they’ve become sickeningly cute.

“Careful with the food, Simon,” Agatha trills.  “This is a new car.”

“You bought it used,” I remind her.

“It’s new to me,” she says.  “Plus, it’s in good condition, and I want to keep it that way.”

She finds a song on the radio she likes and finally stops fiddling with it.  Satisfied with that, she pulls out of the driveway. Once we're on the road, she turns a look at me. “Have you decided what you’re going to say to Micah yet?”

I groan.  Micah. “No,” I admit.  “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“I could do it,” Baz offers from the back.  Simon is leaned against him now, resting his head on his shoulder.  Insufferably cute.

“You are not breaking up with my boyfriend for me, Pitch.”

He shrugs.  “Just offering my services, as a friend.”

We are friends now, surprisingly.  We have the same ambition and the same sarcastic sense of humor.  It turns out you’ll find you have a lot in common with someone, when you stop looking at them as your academic competitor.  “I appreciate it,” I tell him, “and if I ever need help burying a body, you’ll be the first I call.”

He offers a small salute.

Agatha says, “Please don’t call me for that.”

“Agatha,” I say, “you’ll be the first I call if I need help robbing a bank.  I’ll need a getaway driver.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles.  Agatha smiles a lot more, lately.  Since she and Simon broke up, she’s been more relaxed.  She’s spent more time talking to her Normal friends, planning out her future in California.  And she’s completely done with doing anything she doesn’t want to do. She didn’t even go to graduation.  “I don’t want to sit through all the boring speeches and ceremonies,” she said. “I can count on one hand all the people I like at this school, and I’ll be seeing you long after graduation.”  

This is the most unrestrained I’ve ever seen her.  It’s also the most I’ve ever liked her. Even if I don’t agree with all her choices, I’m happy she’s happy.  

She looks thoughtful now. She says, “Just tell Micah he was your first love.  You’ll always remember him fondly, but it’s time for you to grow up and start getting serious about what you really want in life.  And even though you care about him so much, you know it’s best for both of you that you move on from each other now.” She looks back at Simon and smiles at him.  He smiles back.

It’s nice not having to worry about them anymore.  Since they broke up, they're closer than ever.  So are Baz and Agatha, unexpectedly. Baz no longer uses her as a ploy to make Simon jealous, and Agatha no longer uses him as an escape fantasy to cope with feeling stuck and bored at Watford.  I think they’ve both impressed each other, in a way: they finally broke away from their expectations and went after what they really wanted -- and they both won.

As for me, I’m getting there.  Agatha’s right: it’s time for me to go after what I really want in life.  This internship is just the beginning. And when I get my place in the Headmaster’s office, I’ll know that I earned it, through years of hard work and dedication.

For now, I’ll try to enjoy those years. Now that the Humdrum’s gone, and the three of them have figured out what they want, things are so much more peaceful than they were before.  I want to enjoy the changes while they last.

Then Simon says, “Oops.”  I think I can hear the sound of a sour cherry scone splattering on leather.

“Simon!” Agatha cries.

“It’s okay! I'll fix it.” In a low voice, he says, “Baz?”

Baz casts, ** _“Clean as a whistle.”_**

“We’re good,” Simon says.  “All gone.”

“Agatha,” I say, “you’re about to miss the exit.”

“Shit!”  The car whines as Agatha cuts it.  “That’s it,” she says, “no more food in the car!  Penny, I told you that was a bad idea!”

The car erupts into chatter and chaos. I say, “It’s not _my_ fault Simon can’t swallow his food properly,” while Baz says, “It’s not Bunce’s fault you forgot about simple cleaning spells.”  Agatha says, “It’s ridiculous to use magic for something as simple as eating!”

Yeah. I like this much better than the way things were before. I think we all do. 

Whatever happens in the future, I'm glad we have this: this moment when everything is perfect. We're all happy, and there are no more secrets. It feels like each one of us is set on the right path for the first time in our lives. We're all heading towards something, instead of waiting out our days at Watford. No more listening to parents and instructors and the Mage: this is our time, and we are the wielders of our own destinies.

After more yelling and some GPS rerouting, we finally get back to where we’re supposed to be. As the sky darkens above us, the car gets quiet. When it's time to switch drivers, I volunteer. It's Simon's turn, but I don't have the heart to wake him.

He and Baz are nestled together in the back, dreaming.   

**Author's Note:**

> tw: suicidal thoughts  
> tw: death mentions  
> tw: swearing  
> tw: being magically spelled asleep  
> tw: being trapped/kidnapped  
> tw: mention of homophobia  
> tw: speech difficulties
> 
> other warnings:  
> slightly nsfw: some lowkey sexual language
> 
>  
> 
> Comments are appreciated!


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